Tales of a Wandering Swordsman

In the chaos of the Civil War, many great and terrible legends arose. One such legend bore the name “Single-Stroke Manslayer”, the lightning-quick assassin who lived up to his reputation with frightening efficiency. It was said that he could kill you before you even realized that you were dead. His mere name struck fear in the hearts of all the people, and it was to him that future assassins look as their inspiration.

And yet, when the new government finally seized power, he disappeared without a trace…

^_^x ^_^x ^_^x

A man walked down the quiet streets of the Western Capitol, the wind stirring his pale lavender hair.

Ten years. How things have changed, and yet much has remained the same. He reached up to touch the cross scar on his left cheek.

“Manslayer!”

He ducked under the rush of air that came with the battle cry. Aw, cripes, not again. he turned around to see a young lady wielding a quarterstaff, her long hair held back by a orange bandana. “Me?”

“You can’t fool me!” She declared. “Nobody but a killer would walk around wearing a sword!”

“Oh, this? No!” He unsheathed the sword for her to see.

Her eyes widened. “What the—a reverse blade?”

He smiled. “It seems that we have a misunderstanding, yes.” He patted her head. “Don’t worry, I forgive you.”

She replied by whacking him solidly across the head.

Stars floated through his vision. “Oh, ouch!”

“Oh! I’m sorry!” She exclaimed, helping him up.

“It’s alright, yes,” he answered, both for her sake and his own. He pretended that he could to stand straight, the nasty-looking bump appearing where she struck him helping to sell this act.

The young woman wrung her hands. “I didn’t mean to hit that hard! What am I gonna do?” Her eyes lit up. “I know!”

“Hey!” The man protested as he was grabbed by the collar and dragged.

“Be quiet and let me take you home!”

“But I can’t breathe, no!”

^_^x ^_^x ^_^x

The young woman put the finishing touches on bandaging the man. “There.”

“Thank you, yes.” the man rubbed his head. She did it all wrong…

“By means of an apology, I’m going to let you stay at my house for a while!”

The man did a double take. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me! You don’t have any other place to stay, do you?”

“Well, no.”

“Then it’s settled!” The young woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Son Pan. What’s your name?”

No one asked me my name before! The man smiled, his blue eyes glittering, and took her hand. “Trunks. Trunks Briefs.”